A/N: So, this is a fluffy little Hermione x Fred oneshot. It's on the shorter side. It was originally going to be a short drabble and it kind of took on a mind of its own. As it's meant to be a light and fluffy AU future-fic, it doesn't really go into how Fred survived the war, just that he has for the sake of the cute little scene. Also, I realize the title says "spoonful" and they don't actually make/consume anything that would require a spoon, but that's the title that came to me so I left it. Anyway, enjoy! R&R! Thanks! -Mac

Disclaimer: I don't own.

Every Spoonful Tastes of Love

Hermione had been immersed in the wizarding world since she was eleven and as such had developed magical habits that most purebloods had grown up learning. From her visits to the Burrow since her first year at Hogwarts and the time after the Second War that many of them had made the place their home, Hermione had picked up many of Mrs. Weasley's tendencies involving magical means to do regular household chores. It wasn't uncommon to find cleaning supplies, such as mops and brooms, cleaning the various rooms of their own accord. Making a meal for the horde of hungry house guests would take a miracle if a little wand work wasn't involved in cooking. When Hermione finally moved into a flat of her own, it was common for her to use magic for her own chores because her work schedule left her with little time to do them in any leisurely manner. When Fred moved in with her a short time after they began their unexpected romance, it wasn't unusual for his Weasley Wizard Wheezes experiments to leave messes that no amount of manual scrubbing would remove. Those times there was no other option than to use magic. While Hermione was in many ways dependent on magic for the first time, there were still times when she wanted to slow down. During those moments when a quick magical solution wasn't on her mind, Hermione would often take the time to cook a meal without any magic at all. Sometimes, if he was home, Fred would join her and they would cook together the muggle way.

The most recent occurrence involved Hermione teaching Fred how to bake some of her mother's favorite dessert recipes. Hermione had put Fred to work helping her mix ingredients and whisk the lumps out of batters. Their kitchen was covered with the evidence of their hard work. Empty chocolate, sugar and flour packages littered the counter tops along with discarded egg shells and used mixing bowls. Hermione was certain she looked a mess with her hair all tied up and flour smudges on her face and apron, even though Fred had somehow remained inexplicably immaculate through the whole process. It took a lot of effort and time, but Hermione thought the feeling of accomplishment when something she had cooked all on her own turned out just as she wanted was one of the greatest feelings.

Hermione pulled a tray of freshly baked cookies out of their oven and placed them on the counter to cool. She replaced the sheet of cookies with a cake pan and closed the oven. She took off the oven mitts and set them aside. Twisting a nob on her oven, she shifted the temperature and then set the timer for the appropriate baking time. She ran her forearm over her forehead to wipe away the sheen of sweat left over from the blast of heat from the oven. The action left more residual flour smeared across her face. After a few minutes, she used a spatula to lift one of the warm cookies from the tray and held it out to Fred.

"Try this," Hermione said, "Tell me what you think."

Fred moved close to her side and wrapped one arm around her middle before taking the cookie with his free hand. He took a bite and took a moment to chew. Hermione observed the look of contemplation on his face as he chewed and swallowed. When he was done, instead of responding to her request, he grinned at her and popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth whole. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to the counter. She got to work moving the cookies to a plate one at a time.

"'Mione," Fred said once he had swallowed the cookie down. "I think these cookies are missing something."

"And what is that, Fred?" Hermione raised an eyebrow as she looked up at him again.

"I don't know how you could have missed it," Fred shook his head, "It's such a vital ingredient."

Hermione frowned and picked up a cookie to taste, "Alright, these taste just like they're supposed to. What is it that you believe is lacking?"

Fred smiled widely and Hermione knew she had been had. He tilted his head and said, "Love."

"Oh, you're such a sod," Hermione started to pull out of his arms.

"Where are you going?" Fred asked, tightening his hold and turning her so she faced him as he held her. "I've got some love right here you can use."

Hermione wanted to let out an exasperated sigh, but she didn't get a chance to because Fred had already leaned down to kiss her. Once his lips touched hers, it became incredibly difficult for her to remain mad at him. She wrapped her arms around Fred's neck and kissed him back. He tasted of chocolate left over from the cookies and she couldn't get enough of him. They didn't stop to come up for air until they were interrupted by the timer on the oven going off. Hermione's mind was a little fuzzy as she pulled back from Fred. It took a moment for her to process what the sound of the buzzer meant. It came to her as Fred chuckled softly near her ear.

"I think you've burnt your cake, love," Fred said, still laughing as she finally jolted back to reality.

Hermione sprung to action, retrieving the oven mitts and throwing open the oven. She dropped the steaming cake pan on the counter and waved her hand over it so she could get a better look at the damage. The edges were darkened far past golden brown, but it wasn't a total loss. She left it to cool and turned back to Fred.

"I believe it's salvageable," Hermione said, "But, I believe it will require a double dose of love."

"That can be arranged," Fred replied and swiftly pulled her back into his arms.

Cooking and baking the muggle way had its drawbacks. It took longer, it took more effort and it didn't always turn out perfect; but somehow it always turned out to be magical in its own way. Hermione would take that kind of magical over a perfectly baked cake any day of the week.